


Hands

by curiouscorvid (prometheanTactician)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood, Broken Bones, Burns, M/M, and it's off-screen, by another character, neither of the pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 17:45:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14549997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prometheanTactician/pseuds/curiouscorvid
Summary: "What happened to your hands?"





	Hands

Hidan didn’t usually go quiet. Whether he was trying to be funny, needling at someone, bitching and whining about something or cursing a blue streak, he never really shut up. He even spoke in his sleep more often than not, and his cellmate knew that better than most. He also knew better than anyone that if Hidan could still bitch about something, there was no cause for true concern. If he was quiet, that was when one should begin to worry.

Kakuzu wouldn’t ask what was wrong, though. That would imply that he cared, which he did, but he certainly did not want to advertise that. Especially not to Hidan. Still, he had his ways to check on the cheeky little idiot. Not very nice ways, but he liked to think it was the thought that truly counted.

The first step was observation. Was Hidan glowering at a wall, at the cell door, at another inmate, a guard? No, this time it didn’t seem he was glowering at anything. Just staring down at his hands-

His hands.

Kakuzu’s eyes were glued to them for a long moment. How had he not noticed before? Twisted, stained with blood, skin red with irritation and slightly swollen, bruised in places. Some fingers likely broken, a few distinctively circular burns. Stiff and occasionally twitching. If they were in pain, which they almost certainly were, Hidan did not seem to realize it. 

That was also very, very strange. Hidan had two very extreme, very vocal reactions to pain. Pain he (or Kakuzu) controlled was expressed with moans and pleased cursing. Pain inflicted on him by forces outside of his control were met with cursing as well, but of a different sort. Annoyance, anger, offense, and sometimes very rarely distress. This was met with nothing.

Kakuzu knew the source of the problem. Step Two: Strategic Mockery.

“Should I even ask what you’ve done to yourself this time?” He tried. Hidan didn’t look his way.

“Do whatever the fuck you want. I didn’t do anything.” Muttered, not yelled. Subdued, not indignant. Kakuzu was beginning to feel uneasy.

“That would be a first.”

He was met with silence. No insult, no come-back, no petty denials. Just silence. Something like anxiety twisted in his stomach. The words were right at the tip of his tongue. ‘Hidan, what’s wrong?’ But that would break the rules he set for himself, the rules set in their relationship. They were allowed to care as long as they didn’t admit or obviously act they cared.

This wasn’t the usual sort of problem. This didn’t play by the usual rules. The usual steps didn’t apply, and in fact Kakuzu wondered if perhaps he’d miscalculated badly by playing this the way he had. He stood from his own cot, walked to Hidan’s and sat beside him. There was something uncomfortable about the action, something vulnerable in the offer he was making. God, he hated being vulnerable.

“Let me see your hands.” He ordered. Hidan didn’t move. Didn’t react. When he spoke, it wasn’t like it was in response to Kakuzu. It was like he was talking to himself.

“I’m going to kill him.” He whispered to his twisted bones. “As soon as I can hold a fucking knife again, I’m going to carve him to pieces. As soon as I can wring his neck, I’m fucking going to.” The stillness was broken as Hidan began to shake with rage. Or, Kakuzu was hoping it was rage. That was something he was comfortable dealing with.

“Then let me see your hands, you idiot.” He reached for the sheets of Hidan’s bed, thin and tattered, easily tore off strips from the end. He could head Hidan’s voice in his head ‘hey, rip up your own bed, asshole!’ but the voice didn’t sound in reality. God, what was going on? Kakuzu hated not knowing, hated being confused. He took Hidan’s torn up hands, and there was no movement or reaction as he began wrapping them.

“Even if I can’t ever use my hands again,” Hidan continued, eyes distant. “I’ll tear out his throat with my teeth. I’ll beat him to death with the fucking stumps of my arms if they have to amputate. Maybe I’ll sick you on him.” He snickered, but it was hollow. “How about it, Kuzu? Would you kill for me?” Any other time, it would be a teasing question. Just then, however, it carried weight. Kakuzu’s hands did not pause in their task, but his mind took a moment to pick out his words.

“Depends who it is. If there’s profit in it.” He answered honestly.

“One of the night guards for this sector. Always wears that weird scarf-”

“Then the answer is no. He’s a valuable contact, and indispensable for the contraband he provides.”

Hidan scoffed at that.

“You don’t even know what he did-”

“It isn’t hard to tell, Hidan.” He snapped, but was taken aback when Hidan’s head finally whipped towards him, eyes wide as they met his own.

“What?” He sounded appalled, completely shocked. It took Kakuzu a moment to gather a response.

“It isn’t hard to tell what he did.” The little bit of colour in Hidan’s face paled before Kakuzu could continue. “...Your hands. They’re not subtle.” There was a beat after he finished as Hidan processed his words. He blinked, once, twice, then… he began to laugh.

His usual loud, manic cackling. Somehow, it didn’t make Kakuzu feel any better.

“Hidan.” He tried to interrupt him, put a stop to the whole thing. “Hidan- Hidan!” He dropped the wrapped hand, lashing out to grab his cellmate by the hair and hold him in place, force him to meet his eyes. The laughter bubbled to a stop. “What happened to your hands.” He demanded through gritted teeth. Hidan’s grin grew, but didn’t reach his eyes.

“You really wanna know?”

“I am not going to repeat myself.”

“You’ll be pissed.” He sounded absolutely overjoyed at the prospect.

“You’re involved. Of course I’ll be pissed.” The grin on Hidan’s face faded into something smaller, closer to a shadow of a smirk. Like he was trying to play everything off and couldn’t quite manage it.

“He tried to get me to blow him. I told him to go fuck himself. He tried to get me to give him a handy. I told him to shove it up his ass. He said if I wasn’t gonna use my hands for anything useful, then why’d I even have ‘em?” He held up the newly-wrapped hands in display, the smile forced wider.

Kakuzu said nothing for a very long moment. Hidan was shaking again, with either anger or subdued hysterics, Kakuzu couldn’t quite tell.

“Did he touch you?”

“Does it matter?”

“...I suppose not.” No, it didn’t. What Hidan had already said had already decided the guards fate. “You can’t kill him, though.”

The smile fell, fury took over Hidan’s features.

“Fuck you! I don’t care how fucking useful he is! He isn’t getting away with-!”

“No, he isn’t.” Kakuzu interrupted, standing and returning calmly to his own bed. “But you won’t get the chance.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” Hidan all but shrieked, but Kakuzu did not even spare him another glance. Hidan didn’t let it go, of course. He continued badgering and cursing and yelling about it until he eventually tired himself out.

When he woke up, the prison was alight with activity. A guard had turned up dead that morning, missing his hands, his heart, and a certain other piece of anatomy.


End file.
